This Life I've Lived
by Mozart's Starling
Summary: A short life and a merry one. That's what she'd always heard. But what she had never heard was how addicting the sweet trade- and redheads- could be. AU Pirate!Elsanna. Non-Incest. Characters may be OOC. Will contain graphic sexual content, violence, and character death. Contains some Kristanna (may be graphic). I own neither Frozen nor James Nelson's work (details inside.)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello dear reader. Consider this your warning- this is a non-incest AU Elsanna fic set in the 1700s Caribbean, and it will most likely be graphic. Characters are likely to be slightly OOC to fit the time period. It is also heavily inspired by James Nelson's _The Only Life that Mattered: The Short and Merry Lives of Anne Bonny, Mary Read, and Calico Jack Rackam, _but it will not exactly mirror his novel. Certain major events may be parroted. I do not own _Frozen_, nor do I own any of Mr. Nelson's work. This story is intended for entertainment purposes only, and is not intended or authorized for profit.  
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* * *

_I suppose there is a reason why they call it a short life and a merry one_, Elsa thought as she leaned against the bars of her cells, picking straw out of her loose braid to pass the time. Her ice blue eyes flickered to the cell across from her own, settling on the lump of blankets in the corner. The distant tolling of bells signaled that it was noon- any moment now and the jailor would be here to rouse them. The fair blonde sighed, looking again toward the bundle of rags. "Anna," she called, voice carrying. "Rouse yourself! 'Tis a grand day for the people of the Southern Isles! I hear there is to be a trial."

The blankets moved and emitted a groaning noise. "Sod off." Elsa chuckled as she watched the redheaded woman rise up from straw bed and stretch like a kitten. Her eyes traced the curve of the woman's spine, barely visible under the crude burlap dress. After a yawn or two, Anna leaned against the bars of her own cell, green eyes staring into her companion's blue ones. "A trial you say? Well whoever is to be tried?"

"Pirates I believe."

"Ah, villains the lot of them. It would do well to hang them all."

Elsa's eyes flashed with sorrow for a second, before a genuine smile fell upon her face. "They may yet, my dear."

The jailer- a large, softspoken man- came into the cell block at that moment, leading guards dressed in the King's colors. Anna raised an eyebrow at Elsa before smirking toward the guard who was opening her cell. "Look at this, Elsa, they sent the whole damn company! And fancy that, this one's a sword- reckon I could best him?"

"Shut yer mouth," the guard growled, leaving Anna to impishly hold out her hands, her face the picture of innocence. Elsa chuckled at the ginger as she too was shackled, iron weighing heavily on her slim wrists.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Anna, you know flattery will get you nowhere."

"Right you are. It wouldn't answer to coddle this one at any rate," the smaller girl said, winking at her blonde companion. "I fancy him a proper dandy. Perhaps if we dressed as boys again, he might take a liking."

"I said quiet!" The man was now quite red in the face, his jaw jumping irritably. Anna snickered at this, but Elsa maintained a straight face. She was too long and too weary of this world to play games, though the wildness in the other girl would not allow such a resignation. Perhaps that fiery personality might suit the young girl, win over a guard, allow her to steal away into the middle of the night. Elsa quelled the hot twinge of jealousy that began to rise in her chest- no, Anna would never leave her here to die. Though the woman was nearly eight years her junior with a full and promising life ahead if she should ever escape, there was loyalty bred into her. She was certain Anna would rather hang by her side than be free on her own.

Be that as it were, Elsa knew there was little chance for their escape. Now was certainly neither the time nor the place to attempt it, not when the trial still awaited. Her eyes found the back of Anna's head and fixated on it. That beautiful mess of hair, once so bright and full of luster, was fading from the effects of being trapped in a dank cell for the better half of a month. If any higher power were still listening, she would have prayed to see Anna in clothes befitting of a lady, bathed in sunlight and laughing. The blonde smiled at the thought and allowed it to carry her to the bar.

It was as she suspected it might be. The men- her crew- were behind her and Anna- even Olaf, the small cabin boy. _He's only a child_, she snarled to herself, scowling as the bailiff shoved Anna a little too roughly into the bar. _We're no better than dogs in their eyes_. It would not matter to them whether Olaf was a boy or a man- he was a pirate, and therefore he was evil. Nevermind the fact that he saved the drowning pup, or always advocated for the release of the merchants unharmed, or would nestle against Elsa at night weeping for his mother, lost to the Yellow Fever. He was found with pirates, and he would hang with pirates. The rest was irrelevant.

Any other day, the court would be considered irregular if it were half full. Pirates were tried all the time in the Southern Isles, hardly a day went by when the gallows didn't see action. But the trial of female pirates, now that was a spectacle. Indeed, the air in the courtroom was stiflingly hot, due to the sheer number of bodies that had come to enjoy the show. Elsa refused to acknowledge them- she kept her eyes trained forward, only wavering to glance at Anna every now and then.

The Bailiff scowled one last time at the rogues before his booming voice filled the court. "All rise!" Silence filled the courthouse as voices died down. "This Monday, July the eighth, year of Our Lord 1712, a Court of Admiralty to be held before His Excellency the Duke of Weselton!"

The Duke was a small, thin man with an oversized wig and long, black robe that hung past his ankles. Spectacles sat on his too large nose, above an even larger moustache. He held an air of wavering superiority that the elder woman recognized from her years in the service, the same air that many of the young officers who had bought their way into ranking positions wore. It was not superiority bred from years of confidence and power, but one that sprung from the deepest recesses of fear. She could see the difference in his eyes- he was deathly, terribly afraid. Afraid of pirates, afraid of the audience, afraid of failure. Under any other circumstances, Elsa would have laughed at the man- she desperately wanted too even now. But it wouldn't do to be held in contempt of the court, not now.

"Mister Tottingham," the small man said, interrupting a long droning speech about the witnesses who were to be called. Elsa glanced sharply at the man in question, her prosecutor. His eyes were set in a permanent scowl, nose wrinkled in distaste from years of working a job he did not want or like. The Duke cleared his throat and proceeded. "It is my understanding that you are charging-" he glanced at the paper "-one Elsa Skadi and one Anna Christensen with piracy, adultery, and fornication."

"Yes, your Excellency."

"Then do you also mean to charge these men with adultery and fornication as well?"

A few sniggers echoed in the courtroom, and Tottingham looked down. He seemed to snarl at his boots for a minute, teeth clenched and bared. "No, your Excellency."

"Very well then. We shall hold a separate trial," the Duke announced, "for the two women in exactly one week's time. Bailiff, please escort the prisoners back to their cells."

And just as quickly as they were lead in, Elsa and Anna were removed from the courtroom. The tall blonde looked at her men- most were standing tall, smiling defiantly. Even little Olaf, though he looked to be shaking badly. Out of fear or sickness, she feared she may never know. Poor child, to be taken from the world so early. What godlike power had lead him on this path, had put him on the little sloop with Elsa, had caused the honest merchant to stray into piracy and drag the boy with her?

_Perhaps it wasn't a god, but the Devil_, Elsa thought, feeling the shackles fall from her wrists as she was shoved into the cell. Anna was muttering obscenities at the Bailiff when the blonde's eyes found her, softening immediately. _Or perhaps God is to blame, for he has sent an Angel to the depths of hell to save my soul by destroying it._


	2. Chapter 2

Three Years Prior

* * *

Anna Andersen was known throughout the admittedly small kingdom of Corona as many things, but the oldest and most well used was "Devil Child." Bastard daughter to the King, she was despised by her stepmother- who was forced to take her in after the untimely death of the thirteen year old girl's scullery maid mother- adored by her father and younger half-sister, Rapunzel, and generally avoided at all costs by others, and with good reason. For the young girl had not only inherited her father's red hair, but also his fiery temper.

Little Anna was often known to throw temper fits, sometimes resulting a terribly bruised maid or stable boy. Partially, this was due to the fact that even for a young child, she was clever. Her ears- when not occupied with the latest gossip within the castle- would often catch the rude remarks thrown her way. Words like "bastard" and "usurper" were common adjectives used to describe the girl, and she was well aware of their meaning. The King would often reassure her that there was nothing to worry about- she was his daughter, and therefore a Princess of Corona. First in line for the throne.

And _oh_ how Anna loathed that adjective above all.

Rapunzel was the one who was supposed to become Queen. She'd been groomed for the position since she was a babe, her manners were perfect, her diction alarmingly flawless, her composure as still as a mill pond. Not like Anna, the uncouth, foul mouthed hurricane that had the misfortune of being born a full two years before her sister. Her only redeeming quality was her beauty, and even that could be overlooked in light of her demeanor. The amount of pleading she had done with her father to crown Rapunzel queen in her place was near obscene, and finally, on her eighteenth birthday, Anna knew enough was enough.

So she eloped.

The King had been furious, the Queen had been smug, and Rapunzel had been dazed when Anna announced her sudden marriage to one Hans Christensen, the thirteenth son of some courtesan in the Southern Isles. He was handsome, yes, but the redhead didn't care much for him. Hans was a means to an end, and she was determined to get there. It wasn't long after the announcement that she was on a ship bound west, the sting of her complete disownment now smarting just a bit.

Hans was a far cry from being a wealthy man, giving the status of his birth order, and often had to take jobs at sea to be able to afford the small room that he and Anna rented above the _Captain's Quarter_, a pub frequented by the most rugged rogues in the area. As a result, Anna was often left to her own devices- not that she minded. Here, in the Isles, she was free to do as she wished with no expectations and no rumors (save for those she approved of) to hold her back. She spent her days in the _Quarter_, drinking and laughing merrily with the men who coveted her for her looks and for her unattainable status as a married woman. Even if she had no husband to hold her down, Anna would not have entertained the thought of these men further than she could throw them. To her, the male species was but a plaything- amusing for a time, but ultimately discarded upon receiving a newer, more attractive model. That is, until one night when _he_ walked into the tavern.

This man was unlike any she had ever seen before- broad shouldered and blond haired, grinning madly as he strolled in the door. Anna's eyes found him quickly, examining his attire- a loose, open blouse, trousers that seemed a size too large, and a cutlass at his belt. Strangest and most intriguing to the young woman, though, was his fur vest. It was much too hot this time of year in the Isles to be wearing such a thing, and yet the man seemed as if he were completely comfortable. One of the patrons of the tavern seemed to recognize him. "Bjorgman! Ain't you a sight for sore eyes!"

The entire place lit up with excitement, and Anna found herself leaning forward in anticipation. Words were too jumbled to make out, but she began to hear "Kristoff" quite a lot, and something seemed to waken in her. She turned her head to an old man seated on her left, never taking her eyes off the blond, amiable gentleman who was now leading a crew of six into the tavern and ordering a round. "Who is that villain, just now entered? The one be oddly dressed."

"That? Oh that be Kristoff Bjorgman, lass," the man barked, craning his neck to see around her. "Captain o' the _Berserker_."

Anna's eyes flickered for a moment- she recognized the ship's name at least. A pirate vessel, known throughout the Isles as the Wolf of the Sea, though the young woman seemed unable to recall hearing her captain's name in the tales."Methinks the owner would not allow such a wicked fiend, were he not a benefactor of the establishment."

A moment of surprise preceded a hacking laugh, and Anna quirked an eyebrow at the old man. "Ain't nothing gets by those eyes a' yers, eh? Bjorgman's been on the account since afore you could walk, young lady like yerself. Don't let the Duke fool you, girl. More'n half a his precious Island is bought with pirate gold."

"I see." Her eyes strayed back to the man, who was now leaning against the bar and laughing heartily. "Captain Bjorgman." The named rolled off her tongue like the sweetest cream, and she was tempted for a moment to say it once more. Just then, the man looked up, catching her eyes in his. She stared openly, sipping a bit of the cheap ale she had been nursing for the better part of an hour. The rogue grinned at her, his face pulled into a half smile that would have any woman swooning.

And Anna, the fiery redhead, the bastard princess, the woman who was never entertained by any man, smiled back.

* * *

Elsa eyed the topsail with great interest, her seabag slung over her shoulder and hair in a sailor's club. She was signed on to sail with Captain Abramsen of the _Urðr_. It was honest work, the best she'd had in ages in fact. War was terrible, but it provided jobs for lost souls such as herself. She was lucky to find this merchantman, as there were hundreds of sailors looking for jobs in Corona. Even luckier still that she was being paid a seaman's wage- with her hairless chin, many captains thought her no more than a boy.

An older gentleman suddenly came across the deck, eyeing her with mild interest. She stood straighter, at parade rest, and the man slowed a bit, seeming wary. "I take it," he growled, in a deep Nordic accent, "that you are the new hand?" Elsa recognized him as the Captain now, and she felt the automatic reply forming in her mouth.

"Aye, sir."

"Are you a sailor? I'll be damned if I'll take on landlubber who ain't got his sealegs, and you barely out of your boyhood."

"Aye, sir. I was four years aboard the _Agni_."

"Ah. Man-o-war, eh?" The man looked her over once more and sighed, turning his head. "Well, boy, stow your dunnage forward, then lend the men a hand."

"Aye, sir." Elsa walked confidently across the deck, turning directly to the forecastle companionway and dropping the seabag. Just as she began descending, the captain called out to her.

"Lad! What be yer name? For the books."

"Elric Skadi," she replied, before descending the rest of the way down the ladder.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: *mutters darkly* This is the fourth and last time I am updating this chapter. Some one needs to slap me upside the head. Bloody perfectionist streak. Thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed. You can expect swift updates, as I can't seem to stop writing this one.**

* * *

The _Urðr_ rocked violently in the storm, and Elsa found herself holding onto the topmast for dear life, her clothes soaked through to the bone and her hair falling in waves around her face, freed from the confines of the club. _Damn it all_, she thought as a particularly large wave threatened to rip her from the deck and into the dark depths of water. She did not fear drowning- she was capable enough to keep herself afloat, at least for a time. But the chill of the water, and the stories she'd heard of sharks descending upon a wounded sailor like wolves on a lamb, was something she did fear. Freezing to death or being eaten alive were not the ways in which she wished to die.

A high pitched scream suddenly had her full attention, blue eyes searching madly for the sound. She caught sight of the cabin boy, Olaf, using his entire body weight to hold fast to the mainsail, which had ripped free of the riggings. Forgetting her own fears, the blonde sprinted across the deck, feet slipping against the slick wood. Her eyes widened as a particularly fierce wind hit- the boy was being lifted off his feet, he was being thrown into the water. "Man overboard!" She shrieked, before grabbing a length of rope and tying it to the rail. She said a silent prayer before plunging into the water below.

The cold was nearly unbearable, the salt water stinging her eyes as she dove, sights set on the last place she'd seen the boy. She had to get to him, she could not fail this child, and she damn well would die trying. Her lungs screamed for air as she frog paddled her way through the icy depths, unwilling to give up. Finally, when she thought she may implode from lack of oxygen, she caught sight of the boy. He looked lifeless, hovering in the water. Elsa grabbed the boy around the waist, securing him in a death grip before tugging on the taught rope three times. _Please,_ she thought, trying to kick herself to the surface. _Please notice the goddamn rope_.

It was useless. She was going to die, and she was going to take Olaf with her. _Perhaps it won't be so bad,_ she thought, the icy water now starting to feel the slightest bit warm. _I should have liked to see the stars before I die. Had I known I would die tonight, I may have lingered when last I'd gazed upon them. _Thinking of the constellations put Elsa's mind at ease- she was no longer afraid of the cold, or of the sharks. She was at peace.

Just as she was getting ready to inhale, to fill her lungs with the water that would be her grave- the rope began to pull.

Her mind stirred a bit, stilled her lungs for a moment longer. The tug came again, this time with more force. She instinctively wrapped the fiber around her wrist, securing Olaf in her other arm. The men were pulling her back- she would be brought back from Jones' Locker yet!

Elsa winced a little as her shoulder hit the side of the ship, the sudden jolt causing her to take on a lungful of brine that had her hacking terribly. Her grip on both the boy and the rope were vice like - she was vaguely aware of one of the men grabbing her collar and hoisting her over the rail. Her back hit the deck and she spasmed, releasing Olaf and rolling onto her side. Her stomach rolled and the contents of her dinner came up onto the deck before being washed away by another wave of water. The storm was ebbing, but not quite through with them. Perhaps they'd entered the eye.

"Jesus Mary an' Joe," one of the crew shouted as she heaved again, this time hacking up a good amount of water for measure, "what were you thinking, Skadi! You must be barking, diving into the water like that for a wee pup!"

"Is… he… alive…?" Elsa coughed, her head now pounding. _For the love of all that is holy, please let him be alive_.

"Oh aye, Heesch just took him below. Lad coughed up half the ocean- Eh, Skadi? Can ye hear me?"

Elsa had allowed herself to collapse onto the deck, her head knocking painfully against the boards. She was vaguely aware of some people shouting, and then some hands lifting her and carrying her. The hands tried to remove her damp clothing, but in a fit of panic, she fought against them. _They can't, they'll know, I can't let them_. Eventually she was let be, and just before she drifted into unconsciousness, her mind registered a blanket being thrown over her shivering form.

* * *

Being a beautiful young woman with a coveted title, Anna was quite used to men advancing on her. She'd jabbed more than a few wayward suitors with her hairpins, now skilled in the art of fending off the randy dogs, but what she was not used to was reciprocating the attraction that men showed her. Of course, her husband was a handsome man, and she was even a bit fond of him. But there was no real love between them, not as far as she was concerned.

Therefore, when Captain Kristoff Bjorgman of the _Berserker_ made his way over to her, Anna was more than surprised by her sudden quickening of pulse and flushing of cheeks. She looked up at the blond and sipped her drink once more, her emerald eyes staring into his earthy brown ones.

"Good evening," Kristoff said, inclining his head to her. "Forgive me, but I believe I have yet to make your acquaintance. I am Captain Bjorgman, though the folk in this establishment are wont to refer to me as Kristoff."

"A pleasure, Captain," Anna replied, eyes dancing in the dim light of the tavern. "I am Anna Christensen."

"The pleasure is mine, my lady. Perhaps you may allow this old rogue to buy you a drink?"

"I would be delighted."

Kristoff pulled up a stool and sat by Anne, waving for the bartender to bring them two drinks of rum and a new pitcher of ale. Once the drinks were in hand, Kristoff raised his glass. "To new friendships."

Anna knocked back her rum, ignoring the burn of the alcohol in her throat. Her blond companion's eyebrows rose in amusement as the corner of his mouth tugged upward. "So… Kristoff Bjorgman. I've not heard of you before."

"A fine woman such as yourself, I fancied you wouldn't."

"I have heard of your ship, however. The Wolf of the Sea if I am not mistaken- a well-known vessel of the sweet trade."

A full smirk spread across Kristoff's face, and for a moment, he looked almost dangerous. His eyes reminded Anna of the cats kept in the castle as mousers- the hunger within them unnerved her in the slightest. She felt a little thrill at the thought, and her own eyes darkened dangerously. "You've not been lied too, Miss Christiansen." Anna raised her eyebrows and did not bother to correct her title.

"Then you be an honest rogue," she said, voice more husky than she intended. "And I admire you for it. But are you not afraid that you will hang, sir? I hear the Duke of these parts has it out for wicked pirates such as yourself."

"Hang? My dear, they must needs catch me first. And I've a mind to steal the ship of any man or devil that tries."

"Oh? Then you have certainly stolen the heart of some poor girl as well. Am I likely to meet her?"

"I do not steal hearts, Miss Christensen. I am a breaker of hearts."

Anna's eyes glittered brightly as she smiled at the man. Her torso leaned forward, bosom nearly rubbing his arm as she whispered, tantalizingly close to the captain's ear now. "I do not think you will break my heart, Kristoff."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry this took a little longer guys. The dialogue was irritating me a bit, and I got a little sidetracked starting my next two Elsanna fics... I'll be better, I promise. Anyway, just make sure you've read the last chapter. There were some problems updating: showed the chapter, but failed to document the update. Hope you like it at any rate!**

* * *

"What is the meaning of this?"

Anna jolted awake at the booming voice, her eyes bleary and her head pounding. She sat up and looked around- Hans was standing in the doorway, face red with rage and fists clenched dangerously. It took a moment for her to register the reason for his distress, though said reason was currently sitting up and muttering something groggily.

"Explain yourself, woman!"

She snapped her attention back to her husband, who was shouting at her now. Strangely, she could dredge up none of the guilt she should be feeling at having been caught in bed with another man. "Hello, Hans." Her voice came out oddly calm, her face straight. "I should have thought you'd be home early. Or am I mistaken? I did not think you would return for another evening at least."

"We caught a headwind and docked just hours ago," he growled. "And a good thing, I might not have been able to catch my wife in her sin."

"Wife?" Kristoff was now sitting up, looking between the two and raising an eyebrow in silent query. Anna sighed and turned to look at him.

"Captain Bjorgman, may I present my husband, Hans Christensen."

"I would say it was a pleasure," Kristoff said, shifting his gaze to Hans. "But it may not be well received."

Hans fumed, practically shaking with anger. "It damn well is not. Anna, you will come with me _right now_."

"If you wish for me to accompany you," Anna growled, her temper spiking dangerously, "then you will have to remove me by main force."

"I'll not suffer your lip, woman!" He roared, stepping closer. Kristoff rose a bit off the bed, reaching for his scabbard threateningly. The other man eyed the blond warily and stepped back- Anna wrinkled her nose in disgust. A coward, that was what she had wed. A sniveling pup who would no sooner fight for her affection than he would die for a common whore. "You _will_ come with me, or heaven help me I will have the courts on you."

"You _coward,"_ Anna snarled. She stood from the bed, still stark naked from the night before. "You son of a bitch! Threaten me with the court will you? Yet you won't fight like a man? Goddamn your eyes!" She swung her fist at Hans' face, hearing he satisfying crunch of bone as her hit found purchase on her husband's nose. He wailed in pain, trying to stem the blood from flowing. "You little puke!" Anna kicked his shin once for good measure before Kristoff pulled her back and held her fast.

"Damn you! I'll have you whipped for adultery, you whore!" Hans growled. The angered woman lashed out at him again, the only thing holding her back being Kristoff's arm. Her husband glowered angrily for a moment longer, before storming out the room.

A tense silence fell as Anna, chest heaving in irritation, disentangled herself from Kristoff's grip and grabbed her dressing robe off a nearby chair. She tied the knot with a great deal more force than was necessary, then proceeded to cross her arms and pace about in circles.

The blonde man shrugged on his trousers, glancing up at the angered woman before hazarding a comment in a light voice. "Well, Goodwife Christensen. Your husband seems quite the man."

"Man? No, sir, that creature was nothing more than a worm. The title husband does not suit him."

"I did not intend to drive a wedge between a husband and his wife, Anna." The voice was so soothing, so calm. Anna relaxed a little and turned toward him, allowing the brazen villain to embrace her as tenderly as one would a newborn babe.

"I fear that there will be no fixing this," she sighed. Her voice was quiet, and held a relieved quality. She did not wish to be married to Hans any longer- it was a foolish venture to begin with. When she had agreed to be his wife, Anna had believed there was nothing more for her. Making love to Hans was awkward and halting, something she dreaded but allowed, lured in by the promise of it becoming better with practice. But with Kristoff… oh with Kristoff it was nothing short of _exciting_. She had been, for the first time in her life, aroused and terribly, terribly _happy_. The feeling was new, exhilarating, and had a certain addicting quality. She did not think she would find another such as he for as long as she lived. Anna wasn't sure she could survive without him now she'd had a taste. "Kristoff, love," she murmured quietly, listening to his heartbeat steadily, "I've been too long of this town. What say you to setting sail tonight, under cover of dark?"

"Oh, Anna," Kristoff cooed. His hand ran softly down her back, sending shivers down her spine. "I could never ask a woman such as yourself to come on the account for me. A ship is no place for a lady. And then there's the matter of the ship- I am afeared that the _Berserker _is no more, doomed to sit in harbor until she rots. She is listing badly to the right- I give her no more than a fortnight until she is at the bottom of the bay."

"Do not assume that I am naïve, Captain," the woman warned, her tone dangerous. She pulled away to look the man in his eye, expression determined and unwavering. "Being on the account will no more slight my reputation than my dear husband will, should I stay. If it is your reputation that is of concern, you need not fret. I will disguise my sex, dress a man." Her eyes shifted toward the window at this point, regarding the bay with a pensive expression. " And I know of the perfect ship, one that will be minimally guarded and in its prime."

The captain was silent for a moment before gently shifting to lift Anna's chin with a single finger. Brown eyes met green, and the redhead's pulse quickened almost immediately. "Well then," Kristoff said, a small smile forming on his face, "I must needs introduce you to my men, mustn't I?"

* * *

The crew, surprisingly enough, took to Anna like fish to water. She had been prepared for an uproar, had even reached for the dagger she kept hidden in her bodice as Kristoff announced her intention of joining them. To her shock, they'd all but crushed her with enthusiasm- one man, a rugged old sailor called Kai with a limp in his step, had even heard of how she'd punched her husband and sent him fleeing with his tail between his legs.

"Any lass who can best a man twice her size must be of at least some use," he'd said, giving her a wink and earning a laugh from the woman herself.

It was not Kai, however, who Anna took an immediate fondness to, but rather a young man named Sven. Hardly ever saying a word, the brown haired sailor seemed to her no more than fifteen- though the way the others looked to him, one would think he was their senior by a number of years. The man was wise, intelligent, and far too humbled to be a true pirate. Out of sheer curiosity and lack of restraint, Anna asked Sven how he came into the sweet trade.

"Oh- land's sakes I've nearly forgotten!" Kristoff interrupted just as Sven had opened his mouth to speak. "Allow me to present my Quartermaster, Sven. He and I are brothers."

"Brothers? Pray tell how you both came into the lives of such dangerous rogues!"

"We were cabin boys," Sven near-whispered, tying a bit of rope in his hand. "And the ship was run down, a little off the coast of Arendelle. Then, they made us pirates."

"We signed on willingly," Kristoff interjected, a subtle note of irritation in his tone. "The choice was ours, death or the sweet trade. And seeing as I was too brave to submit-"

"And I too loyal to allow him to leave alone." The blond glared at Sven for a minute before finishing the story.

"We both chose the finer option."

Anna would never admit it, but she saw a small smirk appear on Sven's face as he finished the knot. A perfectly shaped noose now lay in his lap, the end of it dangling off his leg like a snake poised to strike. "Reckon they'll let me tie my own?" He laughed bitterly, just low enough for Anna to hear. His tone had set her on edge for the rest of the discussion, as her eyes invariably returned to the sight of the menacing rope which now sat on the Quartermaster's lap.

She couldn't help but think back to that as they sat in a dinghy, rowing quietly on the harbor so as not to arouse suspicion. Her womanly dress had long since been shed in favor of a loose blouse and pair of trousers that were cuffed over long, worn leather boots. Her hair was pulled back and partially hidden by a hat she'd pilfered from Hans' belongings (along with several pouches of gold and all her finest jewelry, some of which had been eagerly traded for provisions). With a face smudged by soot found in the fireplace, Anna fancied herself a fearsome sight, even paired alongside these men.

"Look," Kai whispered, inclining his head. "Be that the ship ye mentioned, lass?"

"Aye, that she be." The red head's eyes fixed on the daunting shape of the ship in question, a sloop captained by one of her husband's recent employers and aptly named the _Walküre_. She was a fast and fine vessel that had been commissioned for privateering not a week prior. _Though she'll not be doing such noble work once we get hold of her_, Anna thought.

Kristoff and the other men ceased their rowing, outspread palms pushing gently against the hull of the _Walküre _so as to keep the smaller craft from bumping against it. Patiently, slowly, Anna used her weight to keep the little boat from rocking as one by one, the crew began to ascend. Their movements were silent as the night that enclosed them, and soon, only Sven and Anna were left- the former by choice and the latter by force. Though she may be a woman turned pirate, she was still a woman- the men would not allow her on deck this night, much as she'd like to be.

Anna practically bounced in anticipation as she heard a yelp- there were only a few men aboard, just as Anna had suspected. A few muffled curses, some irritable snarls- her pulse quickened. Surely there would not be a fight? The _Walküre_ was valuable, yes, but not worth the injuries either party would sustain in a battle.

Silence reigned for the longest time before finally, Kristoff's head poked over the side of the ship. "She is secure- we'll be sending the rats down presently." His face slipped into a grin as he pulled back, shoving distressed looking man into the rail. "Down you go-there's a good lad."

One by one the three men aboard the _Walküre _were sent down to the little dinghy, their faces ranging from fury to indignation. Anna couldn't help but smile cruelly- what a helpless lot. Just like her father had been, just like Hans was. Men were curious like that- always playing the master, yet never quite fitting the role. She smirked, and began to ascend the ship.

"Oi!" The sudden outburst caused her to snap her head back, glowering at the man who'd uttered it. He was short and squat, definitely the most irritated of all- and strangely familiar to her. "Isn't you the wife a Hans Christensen?"

Her mind flashed back to one night at the quarter- Hans had brought back a few of his crewmates, one large, loud and incredible brash- Gaston, he was called- and a squat, ugly little sidekick that had been leering at her all night long. LeFou. That same man now stared up at her warily, as if she might be an apparition and not the woman he thought at all.

She grinned down at him wickedly, enjoying the discomfort she was causing. "Not anymore." Sven coughed out a small laugh as she turned back to the task of climbing, leaving three very startled men in her wake. _Not anymore._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I really hate this chapter. Nothing I did to it made it do what I wanted it to do and it's just... *snarl*. Anyway. Sorry if it's not up to your expectations. The next one will be much better- finally see some action between our heroines (not that kind of action... yet). That one should be up by Monday. Thanks again for all the follows/favorites/reviews.**

* * *

Elsa sat on deck in a rare moment of relaxation, her eyes closed and feet sprawled out in front of her. The sun, much stronger in the Isles than back home, beat down upon her fair skin and made it a little pink. A great sigh erupted from her chest and betrayed her contentment with the weather.

It had been nearly a week since the storm, though no one had mentioned her heroics since that night. That was not the way of sailors, and Elsa was glad for it. She did not think herself any better than the rest- if anything, her fondness for Olaf was a weakness and an anomaly amongst the men. Not that the boy minded at all- he'd taken to following her about like a puppy, babbling about how excited he was to finally experience warmth. He'd grown up in a kingdom far to the north, where there was barely a springtime, never mind a balmy summer season- coming to the Southern Isles would be an entirely new experience for him.

"- and look at how blue the water is!" Elsa smirked a little as she turned her attention away from her inner monologue and blinked over at the boy to her left. He had front teeth that were a bit oversized, giving him the illusion of being part rabbit. Light freckles resembling her own dusted his cheeks, which were constantly lifted in a state of mirth, and brown eyes sparkled in the sun as he stared out at crystalline waters.

"Oh aye," Elsa drawled lazily, glancing behind her. There wasn't much to be done about the ship- she could allow herself a few moments to talk to the boy. "Everything be bright here, laddie. It's the Caribbean- the country of leisure."

"Might we stay here, Elric?"

She smiled a little sadly, and ruffled the boy's jet black hair. "Perhaps. But you would miss your family if you were too long here." Olaf's face fell a little. "Alright, my boy?"

"Aye." He sighed and glanced up at her. "But Elric- I haven't a family back home. Me mum was lost to the Fever afore I saw my fifth year, and my father I've never known. I've been aboard this ship since I was ne'er more'n five."

"Oh." Her heart went out to the boy, but she resisted the urge to pull him to her. That was a womanly urge, a sailor would never show such kindness to a boy of eight, even an orphan. Olaf shrugged and stayed quiet for a moment, before turning to her with a quizzical eye.

"What of your family, Elric? Have ye a mother- or maybe a wife?"

Elsa's pulse nearly doubled as she carefully avoided the question and instead stared out at the sea in front of her. What could she tell this boy, who would likely give his very life to see his mother again, about the one she had abandoned at the age of ten? That she'd run from the pressure to marry a man and instead became one? But he would expect an answer- after spending the better half of the week being subject to his endless questions, she knew that much was certain. Even now she could feel his expectant eyes searching her quickly flushing face.

Just as she could bear the pressure no longer, a call from the nest stilled all movement on deck. "Sail ho! Off the port stern!"

Elsa immediately stood, ignoring Olaf as he trotted along behind her. In any other waters, a sail on the horizon would go unnoticed- but not here. This was pirate country, and any sail was an enemy until proven otherwise. Captain Abramsen came up next to her, his face set in a hard scowl.

"Turn twenty degrees starboard," he shouted to Blom, the Mate at the helm. "See if they turn with us."

"Aye sir, twenty degrees starboard!" The ship began to turn about, heading away from the vessel on the horizon. Elsa moved closer to the mainsail, her eyes never leaving the ship.

_Come on you bastards,_ her mind growled irritably, fingers wrapping into a bit of line. _Turn away._ She watched, her eyes straining to catch the littlest change in their pursuer's headway.

There was the slightest turn- the ship made to follow their course. Elsa's heart sank. _Bloody pirates. Bloody goddamn pirates_.

The Captain began to bark orders to the crew, commanding them to let down the full sail. The _Urðr_ was now in a race for her life, and it would take every ounce of manpower they have. Elsa knew that it was of no use though- chances were that the pirates had a faster, smaller ship, not weighed down by cargo as they were. Running would delay their fate, perhaps for an hour or two, but they couldn't avoid it. _Olaf._ She whipped around to find the boy directly behind her, his eyes wide with fear. She knelt down, not caring what the rest of the crew thought. It didn't matter anymore. "When the fighting starts," she muttered, just low enough for Olaf to hear, "you are to stay within my line of sight. I won't be put through the stress of wondering where you are. Stay in my line of sight, and you will _not_ fight. Savvy?"

"Aye. Elric…. Be they pirates?"

Elsa hesitated for a moment, thinking to lie. The look of understanding on the boy's face stopped her. "Aye, Olaf. They be pirates. But we may outrun them yet. Chin up, go ask Abramsen where he wants you- there's a good lad." She watched as Olaf scampered off to find the captain, and momentarily turned her eyes to their pursuer. The vessel seemed closer, but the merchantman was holding her own. Perhaps… just maybe… she was wrong. Maybe they would escape from under the pirates'noses.

God how she hoped she was wrong.

* * *

"They're running. Topmast stuns'ls," Kai confirmed, handing the spyglass to Kristoff. Anna watched the exchange with great interest, her fingers working rapidly on the cloth in her lap.

Two weeks had passed since she escaped her husband's grip, and after a quick stop in one port to trade the rest of her finery and gold for rum, water, food and the company of prostitutes for a night, things had been quite boring. She wasn't expecting to plunder a merchantman every day, but having captured nothing but a fishing boat was making the entire crew restless.

The men, however, could busy themselves with the work to be done about the ship. It wasn't terribly hard work, but it provided at least _some _stimulation. Anna was none so lucky- she knew nothing of the ways of a ship, and though she was learning fairly quickly, often she was more a nuisance than a help. She wasn't raised to be a sailor, she was raised to be a lady. And if a lady knew one thing, it was how to sew.

The black cloth she had in her lap now was to be the new colors of the _Walküre_, a work of art she was fond of, if not proud. Her face broke into a smile as she finished the last stitch, tying it off nimbly and breaking the string. "See here, Sven," she grinned, turning to the quiet man who'd been watching her work for days now. "Do you like it?"

Sven rose from his position against the helm and padded over, his eyes roaming across the fabric. An expertly crafted skull sat above a pair of crossed cutlasses, with a winged hourglass on one side of the grinning death, a bleeding heart on the other. The Quartermaster allowed a small smirk to cross his face, nodding to Anna with approval.

"Anna!" Kristoff had made his way over, body oddly tense. He was wearing his fur vest again- she'd since learned it was a reindeer skin- with a grand feathered hat adorning his head. He was planning on taking the merchantman by force if need be, and it was something of a sport amongst the rogues to make a jest of their plunder. "Have ye finished the flag?"

"Aye," Anna replied, holding out the newly formed cloth for his inspection. Her eyes wandered across his features- rather than the excitement she seemed to feel at the prospect of finally taking another ship, he was oddly uneasy. Brown eyes flickered to the bow, eyeing the merchantman just beyond with apprehension, before returning to the woman's green ones.

"Tis a grand flag Anna. Kai! Jorgan! Hoist the colours, lads!"

The captain watched as his new call sign was carried to the mast, and the two men set to work replacing Weselton's flag. He turned back to Anna, all signs of trouble wiped clean from his brow. A smile that did not quite reach his eyes spread across his mouth. "There. Now we shall strike fear into the hearts of any bastard foolish enough to run from us. Well done, Anna."

"Thank you, Captain." Excitement was beginning to settle in Anna's chest. Her bare feet slid across the slightly damp deck as she followed Kristoff to the bow, eyes set on their prize. "Do you think they will fight us, Kristoff?"

"They may." The anxiety had returned to his face, causing worry lines to appear on his forehead. "But Anna- should it come to that, I do not think the men will hold is against you as they would each other, should ye choose to stay below."

"I am not afeared, my dear Kristoff," Anna said defiantly, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'll not cower in the hold whilst we take these whoresons."

The Captain stared at her for a long time, his face unreadable. For a moment, Anna was terrified she'd made a mistake- perhaps she had insulted him in some way, challenging his authority. Men could be peculiar like that, tetchy as wolves one moment and mild as kittens the next. "Very well then," Kristoff finally muttered. "Best be ready when the time comes to take them, my sweet. See to it that Sven fits you with a couple of braces, perhaps a cutlass. Off with you now."

Anna nodded quickly and turned to take her leave, wondering why the Captain could have cause for such strange manner of speech. His tone had been quiet, voice nearly shaking as if he were too fatigued to voice his own concerns. Her eyes roved over the rest of the crew as she made her way toward Sven, who was manning the helm with a weather eye on the horizon. All of them were grinning with anticipation, save the ever stoic Sven- Kai and Jorgan were readying the cannons, Erikson was up the nest with a glass, and a few other hands she did not know as well scurried about seemingly aimlessly. Her expression darkened as she tried to puzzle out the difference between her man and the crew. Why was it that Kristoff, the mighty Captain of the _Walküre,_ was the only one unaffected by the levity in the air?

The answer hit her hard, like a sack of flour, or perhaps a mortar. She actually staggered a bit from the weight of realization, though to anyone else it would have looked as if she were merely thrown off balance by the sudden shift of the boat as a particularly steep roller hit their side. Her green eyes shifted in shock, features pulling into an expression of disbelief. She turned, eyeing the back of her Captain's head with apprehension, and more than a little disappointment.

Kristoff, the boisterous, gallivanting rogue from her wildest dreams, was afraid.

* * *

_Dedicated to Billy- You went too soon man. I'll miss ya._


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. Here's an extra long chapter to make up for it. Thanks to everyone who's sticking with me on this one.**

* * *

_Death, death, death, death…_ The chant sounded in her ears as she lit a cannon, barely blocking her ears in time to save them from the blast. Elsa swore as the ball pulled to the right, missing the sloop by feet. They'd counted the rogues aboard- ten in all, while the _Urðr_ had fifteen, not including Olaf. Upon hearing of their advantage, the less experienced men had voted immediately to stand their ground and fight. Like most of the elder hands, Elsa had voted the same out of indifference- it had been a unanimous decision on the crew's part to resist the pirates for as long as they could. _Far better to die with a little dignity than to roll over like a pack of dogs_. Her eyes flickered momentarily to Olaf, who was keeping busy with the task of powder monkey, his face nearly covered in gunpowder from when he'd tripped and spilled the contents of the bag.

_Twenty yards off,_ Elsa thought to herself, hand automatically reaching for her blunderbuss. One of the pirates, a large blonde man with a strange fur vest, was screaming at the men to cast over the grapples. To her left, one of the crew- Turner, a man she had liked well enough- was hit square in the chest by a cannon blast. Her blue eyes followed his body as it hit the deck with a sickening crush, the man dead before he hit the wood. She could feel no remorse for him- he died painfully, yes, but quickly. Should the pirates best them, the survivors would be facing much worse. A quick and painful death was preferable to whatever horrors these barbarians might inflict on their captives.

The death chant had tapered off into mindless screaming as the pirates surged onto the merchantman's deck. Grenadoes flew back and forth between the ships, causing mayhem with their small explosions, but Elsa was far too focused to pay them any mind. She quickly pressed her advantage, taking interest an older, scruffy looking man who seemed to hobble a bit. The thought of killing him nearly disgusted her, and if it weren't for the vicious swipe of his cutlass narrowly missing her abdomen, she might have let him be. As it was, her eyes narrowed on him, knowing that he could be an easy target. One less rogue to worry about later. She knocked back the hammer of the blunderbuss, taking quick aim at the man's head. Point blank. There was no way she could miss, no chance the man had in hell-

A double bang, two quick successions. Elsa dropped the gun she was holding, hissing in pain as blood bloomed across her shoulder. The man she'd been poised to kill fell forward, clutching a ruined left ear. _I had him! What blithering, foul tempered swine -_ Her head whipped around, eyes narrowed dangerously. There, standing with his pistol aimed at her back and looking thoroughly shocked, was a young man, a pirate. His green eyes were wide as saucers, and the gun shook a bit in his hand- Elsa noted that this may very well have been his first time shooting, that he had been aiming to kill and not wound. No matter, this battle would soon be finished. She reached for her cutlass, watching with a small smirk as her opponent drew as well, gaze now determinedly focused on her own. Testing the waters, she lunged forward- the pirate parried her move effectively, much to her surprise. _What kind of rogue be this, with swordsmanship to rival a lord and marksmanship to rival a dog?_

Her antagonist lunged forward with quick, well rehearsed steps, driving Elsa back until her side crashed with the bulwark. The clash of steel echoed around them- a few strands of hair fell into her face as blocked the pirate's blows, her arm throbbing agonizingly. Blood dripped from the wound, and as much as she hated to admit it, this particular sailor had skills to rival her own. He would have found a place amongst the cavalry had he not turned pirate at so young an age, with nary a hair on his chin. If she had any hope to survive this battle, she would have to switch tactics.

Pushing the man away from her roughly, she dropped into a slightly crouched stance and smirked at him. Green eyes narrowed at her, and she motioned cockily with both hands. "Have at me you bastard, you sniveling pup," Elsa teased in a nasty tone, watching as the man became more and more infuriated. "Come on, whelp, you son of a whore…" Rage sparked in the other's eyes, and he screamed, lunging at Elsa with his full force. She sidestepped, slamming the rogue into the rail of the ship. A satisfied grin formed on her lips as she lifted her blade, fully intending to drive it into the young man's back.

"Quarter! Quarter!"

"No!" Elsa's furious snarl echoed in the air as she turned, momentarily forgetting her quarry. Her eyes widened in indignation as she took in the crew of the _Urðr_, now all prostrate before the pirates, some weeping quietly. Three of the members including Turner were dead, nearly all the rest wounded, but she felt the anger rising in her chest. Never, _never_ in all her years as a soldier and a sailor had she _ever_ surrendered. She would rather die.

Cold steel pressed into her neck, as if answering her thoughts. The man who she'd bested, who she'd been seconds away from finishing off, was now staring at her with a toothy grin, triumphant. Her hand gripped the cutlass harder- perhaps she could put this dog out of its misery in one last, vain attempt at victory. Before she could act on the impulse, however, a timid voice reached her ears.

_"_Elric?" The blonde's eyes flickered to her right. Olaf stood, his eyes red from crying, a knife pressed to his throat by the sailor whose ear she'd marred. The boy's right cheek was bleeding heavily, but his gaze showed no pain- only fear for his protector as he eyed the cutlass in her hand. Elsa's resolve weakened; what would they do to the boy if she was no longer able to look out for him? None of the other sailors would protect him, not if it meant their lives being put at risk. If she died, he would be alone and at the mercy of the pirates.

Her grip on the cutlass slackened. She may not have feared her own death, but she would not allow Olaf to suffer. Not if she could help it. With a disgusted look at the rest of the crew, she flung the blade down to the deck in defeat.

* * *

"Does it hurt?" Olaf's quiet whisper caused Elsa to sigh in irritation, her hand reflexively smoothing back strands of hair.

"A might, yes." The gunshot wound on her arm had been crudely bandaged with a bit of cloth, but she would be lying if she didn't admit it was sore. The pain was minimal compared to the blow her pride had received, though.

After they'd been disarmed, the Urðr's had been rounded up and deposited into the bows, left to murmur in terror about their fate whilst their captors reveled on deck. The stench of rum wafted up to them as the pirates raucously celebrated their victory, hardly paying their captives any mind except to jeer. Elsa for her part was doing her best to ignore her shipmates, still angry with them for calling quarter and not fighting to their deaths like men.

A little sigh caused her to glance over at Olaf, who was leaning against her good arm. "What?"

"Will they kill us?"

His blunt question startled the blonde- she'd never thought the boy to be quite so reserved to his fate. Something about the disillusionment made her deeply upset, and her answer was fierce. "I do not think so. Perhaps, if we cooperate and do as they say, we will emerge unharmed."

"I do hope so, else this surrendering nonsense will have been for naught." The dark haired boy shifted to look down at the pirates, his gaze now curious. "Who do you suppose the captain is, Elric?"

She nodded her head at the man who'd ordered the pirates to board them. "Him. That one there, with the fur. See how he struts about like some great lord?"

"Aye," Olaf giggled, the sound bringing a small smile to Elsa's face. "He's a proper dandy, ain't he?"

This got a full on chuckle from Elsa, and she ruffled the boy's hair playfully. "I believe ye be right, Olaf, but best not let the captain hear it. Now hush, lad, 'tis best if we're quiet." Silence fell over the pair immediately, and the elder of the two looked out to the deck with an observant gaze.

The pirates were a raucous bunch, but they seemed to be lazing about at the moment, laughing uproariously at some joke one of their lot had told. None in particular seemed to stand out to her- she noticed the captain, with his confident strut and lopsided grin. To his immediate right was a smaller man with sad brown eyes that seemed focused on something far away- only the smallest of smiles seemed to cross his face, and even then the action seemed automatic. The man whose ear she'd shot was the focus of their attention- arms waving animatedly and grin stretched wide, Elsa could only imagine what kind of story he might be telling.

Then, her eyes drifted to the young man she'd fought. The hat that had been hiding his head was removed, revealing light auburn hair with a curious blonde streak down the right side. He was smaller than the rest of the crew, his blouse and trousers exceptionally loose on his slight frame. A red vest fit snugly over his torso, and as he turned to say something to the captain, Elsa's eyes were fixated on that bit of clothing.

Her jaw nearly fell to the deck, eyes bugging out of her head as she noticed the smallest _hint _of a curving bust, barely noticeable under the layers of cloth. She blinked once, twice, three times, but the sight would not rectify itself. _Damn me… Damn me if that ain't a woman!_

The vest had done much to hide the lad's- no, _lass's _- feminine features. In fact, if she hadn't been staring so closely, and if he- damn it, _she_- hadn't turned, Elsa wouldn't have noticed. But the longer the blonde stared at the other woman, the more she was sure beyond a doubt that this pirate was indeed a female. All the subtle things Elsa had trained herself for years not to do- the delicate pose, the slightly demure turn of the head whenever a man spoke, even her smile- were at once evident in the red-haired girl.

Elsa glanced at the pirates, wondering if they were aware of the anomaly in their crew. None of the members seemed to be treating the woman any differently, none save the captain who, now she was looking properly, leaned just a bit too close to the red-head to be considered strictly friendly. He seemed almost possessive, a small frown crossing his features whenever the woman would direct her attention away from him. There was no way he didn't know her true nature- Elsa would even hazard a guess that the two were lovers, the way the blond looked at his companion. The entire revelation confused her to no end. What sort of rogues were these, that sailed and fought alongside women, treating them not as inferior, but equal?

As if she'd sensed Elsa's staring, the woman suddenly looked up and locked eyes with the blonde. Green bore into blue curiously, neither willing to look away. The red-head continued to watch her captive as she took a swig of rum, ignoring the captain's attempts to reclaim her attention. For her part, the blonde felt a stirring in her chest, a flutter she hadn't felt in over six years. It was this feeling that caused her to glance away and close her eyes, as if the intensity of the other woman's gaze was physically painful.

_Goddammit, Elsa. What have you gone and gotten yourself into?_

* * *

That night, as Anna and Kristoff rutted in the captain's quarters, the redhead could not seem to enjoy herself. Her mind kept drifting from the man currently pleasuring her to the blond sailor she'd been fighting earlier that day.

He was young, the merchant, young enough to have a hairless chin. Yet for some reason, his eyes seemed to hold a wisdom that was beyond his years, a certain cunning that she'd previously only seen in much older men. He had even almost killed Kai- no, would have killed Kai if not for Anna's intervention.

Then there was the matter of his swordplay. Merchants should not have been that skilled in the art of swordsmanship- the mysterious lad's technique was on par with her own, and she trained in fencing since the age of five. How could a poor man, working aboard a merchant ship, have reached her caliber, have _bested_ her? She'd been trained by a master, for Christ's sake!

Kristoff finished with a grunt and she felt his slick body collapse next to her own, pulling her into a warm embrace. Anna struggled to keep the frown off her face- that was another thing that was bothering her. The captain's behavior before the battle had frightened her, planted a seed of doubt in her mind that made their lovemaking even less enjoyable than it might have been. She was determined never to be with another coward like Hans, determined never to make the same mistake again. But the fear in Kristoff's eyes, the irritation in his movements just before they'd won their prize was… unsettling.

Light snores began to fill the room, and Anna sighed tiredly. She disentangled herself from the captain's embrace and got up, pulling on her blouse and trousers but leaving the vest. Exiting the cabin of the ship, she inhaled deeply, letting the cool night air rush into her lungs. Most of the crew was passed out on the deck, the captives asleep in the bows and too timid to try a mutiny at any rate. Her head cocked to the side as she saw movement in the prisoners' area, slow and rhythmic, almost like playing an instrument. The curious part of the woman spurred her forward, only pausing to grab a loaded brace before ascending.

Most of the captives were indeed asleep, safe in their dreams from the horrors of the waking world. Anna almost pitied them as her eyes roved over their sleeping forms. Her eyes finally settled on the source of the disturbance- a light, cream colored hand stroking up and down the back of a boy no older than ten. The arm, which seemed incredibly too thin for a sailor, was attached to none other than Anna's blonde sailor. His eyes were wide open and regarding her with an unreadable expression, their blue irises seeming to glow in the moonlight. A thin face framed the eyes, with a perfectly shaped cupid's bow mouth settled just below a small nose and just above a little chin. _Definitely a young lad_, Anna thought to herself as she stared at the man in front of her, expression infinitely curious. _He's barely out of his youth- still such a childlike face_.

"I know I am in no position to bargain," the sailor said suddenly, snapping Anna out of her thoughts. His voice was barely above a whisper, and it had obviously not undergone the change into manhood yet, much like its owner- yet there was a certain quality about it that made her crave more of it. "But I will ask anyway. Do what you will to myself and the men- torture us, kill us- but… please… spare the boy."

Anna's eyes flickered to the child who was fast asleep on the blond sailor's lap. He was pale, with a shock of unruly dark hair and a slightly overlarge nose. Two front teeth poked out from his slightly parted mouth, and she fought the urge to smile at the sight. Keeping her voice level, Anna eyed the sailor with a slightly quirked brow. "And why should I honor your request? Are you not my prisoner, and are you not at my mercy? Perhaps I shall ignore you, and the boy will be first to die."

Anger, pure rage flashed momentarily in the merchant's eyes, and Anna felt her heart clench. As quickly as it had appeared, however, it was gone, replaced with a blank, unreadable expression. "You are correct. 'Tis not my place, but I pray thee take my words to heart. The boy is innocent, his only sin being the misfortune of sailing this accursed vessel. I will say only this- I would not wish to die knowing that the blood of an innocent was shed by my hand."

The threat was well hidden, but very plain to the redhead. If any harm was to come to the boy, this young sailor would not hesitate to seek vengeance against the perpetrator of such a crime. Though she could have been offended, should have taken action against such blatant disrespect… Anna could not find it within herself to be anything but impressed at the man's loyalty. She desperately wanted to continue talking with him, to find out more about him, but was stopped when she heard familiar, lumbering footsteps coming toward them.

Kristoff stood glaring at her, his eyes bleary and his clothes disheveled. His voice was loud, waking the crew of the merchantman from their deep slumber. "Prisoners below."

For some reason, Anna's eyes narrowed and her arms crossed defiantly. The crew began to gather themselves, still half asleep, and were filing down to the hold as the redhead stared the captain down. The blond sailor had scooped the cabin boy into his arms and was making to follow, when Anna's hand on his shoulder caused him to freeze. "And what if I would have this one for my own amusement?"

"Prisoners. Below." Kristoff stepped closer to Anna, his posture and body language threatening. The sailor went rigid, arms tensing as he watched the captain with an unreadable expression. Anna paid him no mind, however, her focus being devoted to Kristoff. Eyes narrowed, it was a moment before she allowed the sailor to leave, only meeting his eyes for a second before turning back to the captain. They continued to stare each other down until the door to the hold closed. Finally, the man broke her gaze and turned to stalk back to the cabin, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Anna let out a frustrated sigh and flopped onto the deck, closing her eyes. _Men_, she growled to herself. _Ever the possessive, jealous bastards. I don't know how much more of this I can take._


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning at dawn, the pirates roused their captives and herded them up to the deck. Elsa had to hide a smirk as she noticed the captain's momentary glower in the direction of the redhead, who was pointedly ignoring him. His irritation was lost to a wide grin when the prisoners stood on deck, all nervously watching him. "Good morrow, gentlemen!" he boomed to the captives. "I am Captain Kristoff Bjorgman, of the grand ship the _Walküre!_" He bowed mockingly to them, and a few of the pirates snickered. "And on behalf of my men, I wish to thank you for your generous hospitality." Laughter broke out amongst the pirates, their faces breaking into large grins at the captain's antics.

_By god is it all just a game to them? Some grand play?_ Elsa's face was carefully composed so as not to betray her disgust. The rest of her crew were shifting about nervously, the fear evident in their expressions and the way they cringed whenever Bjorgman would move a bit too close. With Olaf tucked snugly at her side, the blonde woman could feel no emotion other than anger. Voices taunted her as the captain put on his façade, moving about the deck in front of them like a king.

_He threatened Olaf, he hurt your crew, he took your pride. He almost hurt her._

A brief expression of shock passed across Elsa's face before melting into her stoic mask. Where had that thought come from? What allegiance had she to that woman turned pirate? True, the redhead's eyes had not left her face all morning- try as she would to ignore it, that gaze was too intense. And, she had to admit that the girl had quite a pretty face, though it was hidden beneath a layer of dirt and grime…

_No! Conceal it, Elsa. Don't feel it. You know this._

"When we did strike up our black flag," the Captain had continued, "you people had run from us. Such cowardice don't answer to the Brethren. Our laws would have you struck dead at this very moment, but perhaps…" His smile stretched mockingly as he touched the scabbard slung loosely around his belt. "Perhaps ye may be of some use to us yet. Attend me: our ship be in need of good strong men, and men such as that is hard to come by in these parts. So, I shall give you a choice. If there be one among you willing to join my crew, I will let the rest go free. Nary a hair will be harmed on their precious heads. But the man must come aboard willingly, and must sign the Articles. And if none of you dogs should join me, then the consequences will be… grievous." Silence fell, the lapping of the water against the ship's hull permeating the tension like a drum. Kristoff cast a grand hand over the merchants, all of whom except Elsa cringed. "Come now," he boomed, "surely one of you must think himself man enough to turn Pirate!"

The blonde shifted her grip on Olaf's shoulder, mind warring with itself. _If no one agrees, then we will all surely die. But if I agree, Olaf will be left without a protector. What if the ship is taken again? I cannot allow any harm to come to him, though, and he has a better chance should I agree to the Captain's demands myself. What of the girl though? Pray, I will not put myself through that again. I have come too far in this life to allow it- was that not the reason behind playing the man? To avoid all contacts with women who may cause me to betray my heinous desire? But Olaf… I cannot allow my selfish, fool insecurities to ruin the boy's chance at life. Oh, God, how can you have forsaken me as such? What have I done to deserve such cruelty?_

"Well?" Elsa's eyes snapped to Kristoff, who was scanning the crowd before him, boredom written across his face. "No one? Very well then… Mister Killingly, if you please-"

"W-wait!" Her neck heated as the eyes of every man- and woman- fell upon her. The outburst was unexpected by her own crew, who were staring at her with wide eyes. Not one of them could fathom the selflessness that would drive an honest man to piracy, all for the lives of a crew that would not do the same for him. "I will."

Kristoff's eyes narrowed, his face betraying a scowl. Elsa was sure he remembered her from last night, the sailor that dared to speak to the woman pirate. _Oh but if you only knew my secret,_ she thought, her blue irises focused confidently on his. "Say again?"

"I wish to join your crew, Captain."

"Oh, he is a pretty one, Kristoff." The eyes of both blonds snapped to the redheaded woman, who was leaning against the rail and looking smug. "He's too handsome for the likes of us."

"That's for me to decide." Hostility laced his voice as he turned back to Elsa, examining her expressionless, soldier-at-parade-rest face. "And what is it that makes you so special, hmm? Carrying it a bit high now, are we?"

"He all but bested Ahn- er, Andrew." The pirate with the sad brown eyes now spoke, leveling the captain with his gaze. "Right fine swordsman."

"Not a bad shot either. Took my ear off, didn't he?" Admiration tinged the elder sailor's words as he grinned over at Elsa. "You'd be a right fool not to take this one, Kristoff."

Anger flashed in the captain's eyes, but it quickly shifted to calm superiority. "It seems you've won the admiration of my Quartermaster and my First Mate, boy." The slight to her status did nothing to shake Elsa's stoicism, and after a moment, he continued. "Very well. I give you leave to board my ship."

It was hard to miss the triumphant smile of the woman-pirate as Elsa nodded curtly. She turned to take her leave of the Urðrs, who were all looking at her with expressions ranging from grudging approval to outright admiration. The only one she wished to truly say goodbye to was Olaf, but when she looked down to smile at him, she found the boy had slipped away.

"If Elric is to be a pirate, then I shall be one as well!"

"No!" Elsa turned and grabbed the boy's wrist, dragging him roughly away from the pirates. The First Mate looked between the two curiously, while Kristoff simply stood stock still, his face a worrying mixture of shock and interest. "Pay him no mind, Captain. 'Twas a fool statement, a child's whim."

"See he- ow!" Olaf glared up at Elsa as she cuffed his head sharply. Her eyes bore down on him angrily, which under any other circumstances might have elicited a tearful outburst. Surprisingly, though, the boy stood his ground defiantly.

"And who is this boy who dares pledge himself to a pirate?" The captain's voice was careful, but Elsa detected a certain malice behind his words that she did not wish to hear directed at the boy. "Regular shit-fire, eh?"

"Just a cabin boy," Elsa replied quickly, forcefully holding Olaf back and cutting across him. "Useless really. We've only kept him for light labor we was too busy to do. He's a bit dim as well, can't do much." She was struggling to keep a disinterested expression, a casual tone. _They must not know, they cannot let him sail with them…_

Olaf finally removed himself from her grip, hurrying over to Bjorgman. "T'ain't true! I can be a proper pirate!"

"Why, pray tell, are you so eager to go on the account? The punishment for such a crime is death by hanging, and you still a pup barely weaned." Kristoff was looking at the child skeptically now, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to discern some ulterior motive.

"I'll not allow Elric to go off alone," Olaf said, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. "He is my brother, and the only family I've left. Gallows be damned- I would rather face them a hundred fold than lose my kin."

The Quartermaster, who had been fiddling with a rope through the entire encounter, looked up sharply. His eyes were pained as they watched Elsa, who was too stunned to speak, or to move. Olaf thought of her as a sibling, as _family_. She had cared for the boy, of course, and knew he was fond of her… but never in her time with him had she imagined the attachment he might have to her. The weight of the situation made her uncomfortable- no one had been dependent on her, had cared for her in years. Not since she'd left the only family she had ever known.

"Well, lads, what say you?" Kristoff turned to his crew, motioning vaguely toward the dark-haired boy. "Shall he sail with us?"

"I say nay." The Quartermaster was the first to speak, his voice quiet but authoritative. "A pirate ship is no place for a boy. He'll only be underfoot, causing hell. Reckon he's more trouble than it would be worth to take him aboard."

"I disagree. He could make use of himself, provided he was trained properly. An' it would be a might easier to work the ship if we didn't have to split the cleaning amongst ourselves. Let the boy prove himself- if he ain't improved afore the month is out, we'll just leave him when we're next in port. 'Tis not so inconvenient, and who knows? He might make a wicked villain yet."

Most of the other pirates laughed and nodded their ascent, quickly overwhelming the majority of the vote. The only one who didn't voice an opinion was the woman- Andrew, she had been called, but that was clearly a false name. Her eyes were fixed on Elsa's face, brow furrowing in concentration.

"I believe the 'ayes' have it," Kristoff announced, clapping Olaf's shoulder with a merry chortle. "Welcome aboard the _Walküre_ my boy!" The captain's gaze found Elsa's, and his smirk twisted into something dark, dangerous. There was a hint of satisfaction in his brown eyes that had Elsa wishing she had not agreed to his demands. It scared her.

* * *

Anna drunkenly stumbled toward the helm, her mind already hazy with the drink. Night had fallen over them, though she'd only just woken from her sex-induced sleep, picked herself out of the bed she was sharing with Kristoff, and grabbed a bottle of rum that, between the two of them, had almost been drained of its sweet nectar.

She had been glad to find that, high off the acquisition of the merchantman's goods and two new crewmembers, her coupling with the captain had been bearable, if not outright enjoyable. The rum had probably helped the matter as well. Either way, she was relieved. Kristoff had been ordering the new hand about harshly since the day previous, and had even become curt with her on more than one occasion. But after their romp that afternoon, the blond had relaxed considerably.

_"You are a beauty, Anna. My greatest treasure."_

Her face broke out into a grin as she remembered the words, whispered softly in her ear after their session. _"Oh? Perhaps that is why you boarded me as fiercely as you had the merchantman."_

_"I would have been glad had the merchantman been as easily boarded as thee."_

_"Are you implying that I am a harlot, good sir?"_

_"Aye, but you are my harlot."_

That was the Kristoff Anna loved to see. Playful, coy. Like he had been in the early days, before they had gone to sea, in the month they'd had before her oaf of a husband had ruined their paradise. Nowadays, this version of her Captain was becoming harder to find, hidden as he was beneath the timid, fearful creature that wore his skin.

She paused for a minute, leaning against the rail and frowning at herself. It really wasn't fair of her to be thinking of him like that. After all, it must have taken its toll on him, running about and leading a band of rogues to plunder merchantmen. Always the threat of hanging should the Isles catch them, and burning at the stake if they were to be captured by Arendellians. Then there was the responsibility to his crew, and to her. Such a great stress was bound to drive any man to madness and fear. If anything, Anna should be standing by her man, a shoulder to lean on and a hand to hold.

And yet…

Her eyes drifted blearily to the young man now stood at the helm of the ship, his icy blue eyes watching the horizon. Since Elric had boarded the ship, had signed the Articles declaring him a rogue and a villain, a slight change had occurred in him. For one, he now wore his hair- which was a rather beautiful blonde, almost white- in a think braid that fell over his shoulder, rather than the queue he'd had it in while aboard the merchant ship. Tendrils of yellow hair would occasionally fall in his eyes, though they were almost always immediately brushed back, creating a wild look to frame his grimy, youthful face. A dark blue sash was now tied at his waist, the signature look he had chosen for himself, much like she had chosen her red vest. Indeed, most of the pirates had little things added to their wardrobes- Kristoff had his fur vest, Sven the bit of rope he slung over his shoulder, Kai a green bandanna that clashed horribly with his grayish trousers. But something about the blue sash was regal, refined. It belonged more in her father's court than it did on that ship.

Anna continued to study the newcomer as she shuffled closer, her eyes searching his face. There was something… soft about his features. He couldn't have been much older than her, with his smooth chin and almost dainty proportions. Yet his eyes seemed to hold a world weary sadness, while betraying none of the childish confidence she would expect in a younger man.

She was now a mere foot away from the helmsman, her eyes glazed with drink and thought. Elric glanced her way and gave a curt nod, before turning his gaze once again to the heading. "How is she handling?"

"Feels about right."

Silence fell over them for a minute before Anna continued. "You look so very serious."

"Hmm?"

"Most of the men are drunk at the helm," she elaborated, watching the young man carefully. "Yet you seem content to sobriety."

"Yes, I suppose you're right."

"Why?"

"It would not due to exhibit such behavior around my brother." Elric nodded over to a barrel, just aft, which supported Olaf in his slumber. "Youth are impressionable."

"Aye, I suppose. But will the other men aboard this ship not exhibit the same behavior you are wont to partake in? And will the boy not learn from them as well." Anna delighted in the small quirk of Elric's mouth that hinted at his amusement.

"I am afeared he may take to it sooner if I was to promote it."

"Whyever would you fear that?"

"Because he sometimes idolizes what should not be idolized."

"And what should he not idolize in you?"

The blonde sighed and ran a hand through his fringe, pushing it back out of habit. "Why must you ask so many questions?"

"You intrigue me. And," her voice dropped an octave, turning sultry, "I have noticed you watching me, Elric Skadi. I think I intrigue you as well. Why might that be?"

There was a short silence, before Elric replied in a careful tone. "I believe you are a singular pirate, Andrew Christensen."

_Singular indeed. If you only knew the half of it._ "I believe you may be a singular man, Elric."

"No, I fear I am not. You mistake me for an enigma, sir, but I am nothing more than an ordinary former soldier."

"A soldier, eh? Pray, tell me of the campaigns you were on."

"It is not a matter I wish to discuss."

"Why? Did you do something horrible?"

"No, but I do not wish to discuss it any more than if I had."

Anna's lips curved into a smile as she took another swig of the rum. "A woman would find such a statement tantalizing."

"Alas, with no women aboard, your point is moot."

"Then I shall be tantalized in their absence."

The bells signaling the end of the watch tolled, and Anna watched with a certain sadness as Sven took to the helm, relieving Elric of the post. He smirked a little at the redhead, who had to resist a decidedly feminine pout. "And tantalized you shall stay." The blond quirked an eyebrow as he grabbed the bottle of rum, drinking deeply before handing it back. "Good night, Andrew."

"Good night, Elric," Anna whispered, watching as the man scooped a still sleeping Olaf into his arms and walked toward the bowsprits, stride confident and fluid.

One thing was for certain- there was something mysterious about this man, and she was going to get to the bottom of it. Her mind strayed momentarily to Kristoff, and the possessive way he behaved whenever she showed interest in another man, even in a platonic manner. _I can only hope that this does not end badly._

* * *

**A/N: Decided to save this for last, since it's a long one. First of all, thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing. To the two Guests that reviewed, I'd like to personally thank you as I try to respond to all of my reviews post-haste. That being said, this chapter as well as the ones previous, have not been Beta'd- so please, if you notice any errors, feel free to PM me. I appreciate any and all help.**

**Now, just a few things. Firstly, how would you all feel about a chapter from Kristoff's POV? In ****_TOLTM,_**** Calico Jack received just as many passages as Anne and Mary- but since this is an Elsanna fic, I wanted to see what you all thought. I want to stress that I'm not trying to bash Kristoff as a character either. There's a method to my madness, I promise. He really isn't a bad guy, even though he may seem like it.**

**Next... how many of you have OC's you'd like to see cameo'd? I'm getting sick of writing only about Sven, Kai, and Olaf (Oaken and Gran Pabbie are being saved for later, so I can't use them), and my own OC's don't fit well. So if you want to see a character of yours briefly featured as a pirate, or later a villager, let me know! I'll do my best to include every suggestion I get.**

**Thanks again for reading, and don't forget to weigh in!**

**~Mo**


	8. Chapter 8

"_I got meself an Irish girl an' her name was Finnigan! Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe!"_ The warbling voice, a little slurred, was wafting down to deck from the bows. Sven looked over his shoulder toward the source of the noise, then back down at Olaf. The boy was currently sitting on a barrel, working on one of the knots the Quartermaster had been teaching him.

"Is he like this often?"

"Hmm?" Olaf lifted his dark eyes to Sven's, a quizzical look on his face. "You mean Elric? Oh, no. I've only seen him like this once afore. He's sober as a judge most days."

"I wonder what could have spurred it."

"_She stole me boots, she stole me clothes, she pinched me plate an' pannikin! Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe!" _As the melodic singing drifted off into hiccoughing and chuckling, Sven shook his head and returned to the boy. Olaf had finished the knot he was working on- it was a little lopsided, but passable. He gave the child an approving nod.

"Sven! Sven." The red haired woman that Olaf had noticed hanging around Elric was came up to the pair, a small frown on her face. "Have you seen Skadi about?"

"Aye, how could you miss him? He's been up in the bows for a full hour now singing about Irish women."

"Come again?"

"'Tis a shortdrag, for the braces and such," Olaf chirped happily. "Elric used to be the shantyman for the _Urðr_, on account of his voice. Captain Abramsen speculated he might've been a choirboy once."

The woman stood, her hip cocked to the side and her eyebrows raised. "Is that fact? Wherefore haven't we heard of such a talent?"

"Because Sven is the shantyman, and I promised not to let on that I knew about Elric's talent." The boy smiled for a moment longer, before his face fell into a panic. "I- that was not supposed to happen."

Sven exchanged a look with the woman, who nodded and turned to climb into the bows. The Quartermaster then directed his attention to the boy, who was on a panicked ramble. "Oh goddamn my eyes, Elric is going to be furious… he made me swear on his sword that I wouldn't speak of him with the crew-"

"Olaf, lad, calmly now. You don't have to keep secrets from us. I am sure that Elric was just… shy."

"He'll be raving mad if he finds out…"

"He won't find out then. I certainly will not tell him."

"But what of her? Will she not tell the captain- I hear they are close."

The Quartermaster stared, looking very much like a floundering tuna at that moment, utterly flabbergasted. "Her? How did you… who told you she was a woman?"

"No one."

"Do not take me for a fool boy-"

"I am doing no such thing! I knew she was a woman all the time."

"How, pray tell, did you smoke that?"

"Sven." Olaf looked at the older man, his face a mask of patience- as if he were explaining something to a child barely able to take its first steps. "Really. You act as if I do not know that women have breasts."

While Sven spluttered incredulously on deck, his face going red with utter embarrassment, the woman in question had come across her prize. Hesitant at first to disturb the clearly incapacitated sailor, she took a deep breath, counted to three, and proceeded to prod Elric's side with her foot.

"Skadi? I would have a word with you. In private." Elsa looked up to find the woman standing beside her once again, her eyes struggling to focus. Everything seemed to be swaying, and she wanted nothing more than to be let alone with the bottle of rum that she'd taken from the hold.

_Of course everything is swaying, you idiot_, _you are on a ship. A pirate ship_. The blonde glanced away and took another swig of the bitter liquid, choosing to ignore the redhead. It had been just over a fortnight since she had signed the Articles, and though she was not exactly depressed, she was not exactly happy either.

The workings of the crew had fascinated her to no end. So used to the structure and rigid hierarchy of the Navy, she was quite surprised to find that these degenerates of society, these loathsome villains, were all treated as equal by their brethren. Every man got an equal share of the prize, was entitled to an equal say in the decisions made aboard the ship. More often than not, when there seemed to be a disagreement, they would hold a vote to decide a course of action- and once the crew had voted, the Captain was loathe to go against them. This system of self-government went against everything she had been taught, was a sure path to anarchy. There was no way such a democracy could exist… and yet here it was, implemented by this pack of misfits and perfected to a science.

She might have been able to enjoy herself, if not for the girl.

Andrew- Elsa still had yet to learn her true name- had taken to following her around during even the most mundane of tasks, striking up conversations and attempting to pry the secrets from her heart. Each day was the same- she would wake aboard the deck, Olaf's arm throw around her waist in sleep (no matter how often she pushed him off, the boy would always end up in the same position night after night). Not a minute after she had gotten up and stretched, there the redhead was, a cheery good morning leaving her lips as they walked to the galley for a bit of tack and water.

Then came the questions. Never ending questions that Elsa either skirted around or gave vague answers to, an action which only seemed to increase the other woman's curiosity. Flirting was also an inevitability, especially after the redhead had a bit of liquid courage in her belly. Oftentimes, Elsa had to endure only a few playful nudges before Kristoff would come up to them, his face dark as he requested that the woman accompany him for business below.

Today she had not been so lucky. The Captain had taken ill after eating a questionable piece of fish, leaving Andrew to do as she pleased with Elsa. Things had escalated quickly after the noonday meal, and Elsa had found herself trapped between the bulwark and a very determined young woman.

"_I have a confession to make,"_ Andrew had begun, his face very serious. "_I... I am a woman."_ Elsa had been unable to hold back a wry smile, causing hot anger to flash across the other girl's face. "_Perhaps you find something funny?"_

_"No, no. I just… I have known, for quite sometime now."_

_"You… You have known? Which man told you?"_

_"None. Do not give me that look, I speak only truth. I had known you was a woman since I first spied you, after our spar."_

_"Well however did you figure the truth of me?"_

_"That vest does much to disguise your sex, but not nearly enough for my tastes._"

She cringed inwardly at the memory, picturing once again the triumphant grin on the girl's face. A damning blush had risen in her cheeks, and she had excused herself hurriedly, racing down to the hold. It was only an hour later that she emerged, already near sloshed, and shuffled her way up to the bows, where she had stayed until the sun had begun to set.

"Skadi! Elric- for Christ's sake- Elric, do you attend?"

"Hmm?" Elsa blinked up at Andrew, who was looking down at her with a slightly angered look. The setting sun cast rays of light through her auburn hair, and the blonde, distracted by its beauty, missed what she had said. "Sorry?"

"I asked you to accompany me below. I have a matter I wish to discuss with you."

_Oh very well then_. "Fine. I shall follow your leader, madame."

Elsa allowed Andrew to drag her down the steps by her shirtsleeve, ignoring the glances her shipmates were sending the pair. _Let them look_, she thought to herself, grabbing at a lantern hung on one of the beams to light their way. The hold smelled like a field, and the clutter of old paint brushes, coils of rope ranging from rotting to pristine, and barrels of rum made her feel slightly claustrophobic. The rocking of the boat wasn't helping her drunken state, and she nearly fell twice, only to have Andrew's deceptively strong grip hold her in place.

Once they had reached the forepeak, Andrew turned around to look at Elsa, eyes blazing as she awkwardly hung the lamp on a hook above them. The silence was palpable before the blonde spoke, the mixture of drink and privacy spurring her to uncharacteristic boldness. "So, what shall I call you then, Andrew?"

"I am Anna," the woman replied curtly, her green irises roaming, trying to decipher Elsa's secrets. "Anna Christensen."

"A pretty name befitting of a pretty woman."

"Now see here, Skadi…" Anna- _God how that name was like heaven on her ears_- stepped a little closer. "You have known the truth of me… surely you are not insensitive to the feelings I have for you?"

Elsa, with what little shred of sanity had not been destroyed by rum, quirked an incredulous eyebrow. "Oh? And what of your Kristoff?"

"What of him? Are you afraid?"

"No. But I thought you loved him, and him alone."

"Well, that is true. I do love Kristoff, more than I have ever loved a man. But," she stepped a bit closer, now within four inches of Elsa, "loving but one man can become tedious. And you are not like the other men aboard this ship."

_Does she know my secret then?_ "I'll warrant," Elsa said softly, suppressing a shiver as one of Anna's hands trailed up her arm, "that you are quite a bit more knowledgeable than you let on, Miss Christensen."

"Anna," the redhead chided gently, her voice barely above a whisper. "You may call me Anna." Elsa marveled at the fact that the other woman did not correct her, or ask what she might be more knowledgeable about. _Perhaps she knows, and does not care_. Her brain worked hard in the haze as Anna's hand drifted up to cup the back of her neck, fingers playing with the soft hairs she found there. She leaned down, her face a few breaths away from the girls, approaching at an agonizingly slow rate, giving her time to back away. When she did not, Elsa mustered her courage and banished her common sense, leaning down to give the girl a chaste kiss.

"Anna then." She felt more than saw the other woman's smirk as their lips crashed together once more, this time with a might more vigor. Elsa wrapped her arms around Anna's waist, pulling her a bit closer as the other woman's fingernails raked along her neck, leaving red tracks in their wake. She had never, ever felt this much emotion in her life- a small groan erupted from her throat as she turned her head, parting her lips slightly to allow Anna's tongue entrance. The redhead's hands were trailing slowly down Elsa's neck, tracing over her pulse point gently. They dipped down her front pushing the loose fabric down, over the curve of her chest-

Suddenly, Anna's hand's stilled, her entire body frozen. Elsa barely had a moment to process the sudden change in the girl's movements before the redhead was careening away from her, falling against one of the barrels and looking like she'd been scalded. Shock was etched into her expression, and she stared, horrified at Elsa.

"You… are you… fucking Christ, Elric, are you a _woman_?"

It was as if the whole world had come crashing down around her ears. A hot blush began to rise, shame burning in her chest. _You complete imbecile! How could you think she wanted you, that she felt these heathen desires? You are disgusting, a disgrace. And now, she'll have you marooned on some slip of land, with a single shot to end your miserable life. _"Anna… please, I can-"

"Explain? How dare you!" The redhead was seething, her eyes wild with panic. "What kind of demon possesses you that you would… and knowing I was a woman as well! It's _unnatural_ Elric- God your name isn't even Elric, is it?"

"N-no, it-"

"Don't!" Elsa visibly flinched as Anna stood, looking about ready to slap her. _You deserve it_. "Do not even dare to speak to me. _Monster_." With one last disdainful look, the other woman stormed out of the small room, slamming the door behind her. The blonde let out a shaky breath she hadn't realized she was holding, pressing a hand to the heart that was now hammering in her chest.

If she was not upset before, she certainly was now. _What is to become of me now?_ She thought, her eyes stinging as she sat against the door, burying her head in her arms. _I surely won't survive till morn. Even now she is probably in the Captain's chambers, telling him of the wicked thing I have done. Marooning would be too kind a treatment- they may well throw me to the sharks, or worse yet, to the Arendellians._ A shuddering breath escaped her lips as she pulled her knees tighter to her chest, trying to ease the piercing pain she felt in her heart. An unbidden thought came to her mind just then, one that caused the pain to spike to nearly unbearable proportions. _At least I was allowed to feel her lips on mine, to speak her name, even if she will never know mine._ The pain and devastation became too much for Elsa, the woman turned pirate, to bear.

For the first time in many years, she allowed herself to cry.

* * *

**A/N: Please don't kill me...**

**A note about historical accuracy: I am really trying to keep the vernacular timeline appropriate, as well as trying to keep technology and folklore appropriate. However, when it comes to sea shanties... it's kinda hard. I'll try and find as many as I can that are in sync with the story's time frame (early 1700s) but I might mess up a bit. For example, the one featured in this chapter is a called "Haul Away Joe" and is a little hard to pinpoint. But it's close enough- honestly if I was going to spend hours researching this stuff, I would be taking Maritime History as a major, not Psychology. **

**Anyway, if you're interested in hearing it sung, just search "Haul Away Joe" on YouTube. My favorite is the first one, from rexlibris99, and even though the lyrics don't match up, you get the idea.**

**Don't forget to leave a review! Thanks for reading loves.**

**~Mo**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Don't worry, I haven't abandoned you all. If you want a reason for this being horrendously late, blame Anna. Really. She was an absolute pain in the ass to write this time around. Also, shoutout to StormBreeze, my most avid reviewer… you rock.**

* * *

"So, Skadi. What did you do? Christian looked like someone pissed in 'er tea last night, an' you the last one who seen her."

Elsa glanced up at the man as she lazily tied one of the ropes off, taking him in before giving a proper answer. His name was Benjamin Killingly- she'd heard the crew referring to him as "Kills Willingly Killingly" on more than one occasion- and between his twisted grin and mean temper, she would rather have kept her distance from him. Unfortunately, it looked as if she wasn't going to get away from him anytime soon- his yellowish eyes were fixed on hers, a malicious smirk settled upon his bearded jaw.

"T'wasn't aware that her sex was an open secret, Killingly- perhaps you might think twice about loosing your tongue amongst us peons."

The man's eyes flashed with hot anger, but quickly cooled into an unsettlingly cheerful glint. She eyed him warily for a moment more before continuing with her work. "Aye, most 'a the crew know the truth of her- even your young brother smoked it, bright lad that he is." Elsa's eyes narrowed at the sarcastic tone in his voice, but she did not react further. "But she ain't never taken a liking to one of us- jus' the captain. Until you joined up of course. She's been hanging around you like a dog hangs round its master. Then last night when she dragged you down ta the hold- we was placing bets on how long you might last. But by the looks of it you didn't last long at all- maybe that's why she's so riled, eh?"

"Are you suggesting that I had relations with the Captain's woman?" Her voice was deathly quiet, but seemed to ring out over the crew. In the few weeks she'd sailed aboard the pirate vessel, they had come to understand that Elric Skadi was a quiet fellow who liked to keep to himself, a fact that was well respected amongst many of them. The novelty of her besting Anna hadn't yet worn, earning her a certain amount of prestige- in fact, Killingly was the first man to test her patience. The coldness in her voice was going beyond the usual light chill, seeming to freeze the very air around them. "Because I assure you there was nothing of the sort."

"I don't believe you, Skadi." Killingly had dropped all pretense at this point, his voice turning into a threatening growl. All movement on deck had ceased, eyes locked firmly on the two sailors. The blonde was acutely aware of this fact- when she'd signed the Articles, a sort of code of conduct for the rogues, it had been explicitly stated that she would not start a fight with any of the crew while on board. All disputes were to be settled ashore in a gentleman's duel, lest the instigator be marooned. She had to tread carefully, though her temper threatened to overtake her better judgment.

"You calling me a liar?" Elsa drew up to her full height, throwing the rope down to the deck. If she couldn't lay a hand on the man, she damn well would scare him into thinking she might. Fear flashed in Killingly's eyes for a second, noted doubly by the woman who barely met his shoulder. "If you're going to call me a liar, you damn well be ready to prove it."

"I ain't said nothing."

"It sure seems as though you were implying something, Master Killingly." Both pairs of eyes snapped to the Quartermaster, who had been watching the fight with interest before stepping in. "I believe you are needed by the Captain."

"Hmpf. I don't answer to you, boy." Killingly glared at Elsa once more before turning to lumber off to the helm, where Kristoff and Anna stood pretending as if they hadn't heard the issue. The redhead refused to meet her eyes, instead pointedly looking toward the horizon, as if nothing had happened. _No_, Elsa corrected herself, bitter disappointment leaving a foul taste in her mouth. _As if I don't exist_.

"Skadi, a word." Obediently, the blonde followed Sven into the bows, her task now abandoned for another soul to take on. It wasn't as if they were any hurry. It had been days since they'd last seen hint of a ship, and they hadn't brought in any sort of haul since the _Urðr._ Most days were simply spent lazing about, drinking and telling stories. Her attention turned back to the Quatermaster as he faced her, eyes weary. "Now it ain't none of my business what Anna gets up to, nor do I particularly care. But I want to warn you Skadi. The captain be damn jealous 'a that woman, guards her like a king's ransom- and I'd hazard he values her as much."

"She ain't a prize." The biting phrase was out before she could bring it back in, check her tongue. "She's a human, and a member 'a this crew same as any of us."

"I know. Truth be told, I'm a might relieved that she's stood up to him. Damn shame that a woman sharp as her spends her time in the shadow of any man, least of all my brother."

Elsa glanced at Sven, her eyes questioning. "Bjorgmann is your brother?"

"Of a sort. We grew up in an orphanage together, just outside Arendelle. T'wasn't long afore we found work as cabin boys. Can't have been much older'n your boy Olaf when we signed aboard Rackam's vessel."

"You sailed under Calico Jack?"

"Aye, but only for a stretch. Maybe a month. We landed in Tortuga not long after, worked some odd jobs. Eventually, we wound up aboard a sloop named the _Berserker_- wasn't long after Kristoff organized a mutiny, and was voted captain. Then we sailed for Corona, where we picked up Anna. The rest I reckon you know."

Silence fell around the two, broken only by the occasional word or snippet of laughter from on deck. Elsa's mind drifted from Sven's story, to Anna, to Kristoff, and back to Anna. It bothered her a bit that the redhead seemed not to have revealed their encounter to anyone else. Surely if the captain knew, he would have publically humiliated her. He certainly wouldn't have allowed Sven to stop the squabble she'd been seconds away from having with Killingly. But the woman's words from the night before echoed in her ears, a relentless mantra of torture worse than anything the Arendellians could have done to her: _Monster, demon, unnatural_. Over and over.

"Why did you not tell us you had a singing voice?"

"I'm sorry?" The sudden question caught her off guard, blue eyes blinking rapidly up at Sven's brown was. A somewhat playful expression was on the young man's face, and when he continued, his voice was light and teasing.

"I only wonder- if you sing half as well sober as you do when utterly sloshed, perhaps you might make a fine chantyman."

"I'd never- that's presumptuous! I wasn't aware-"

"Relax," Sven laughed as Elsa spluttered, her face quickly reddening. The child-like glint never left his eyes, even as he leaned against the rail and looked out at the horizon. "Just trying to relieve the tension. T'ain't good to harbor negativity, mind you. I won't make you chantyman, not if you don't want the task. But perhaps a small forecastle ditty every once in a while wouldn't be too much to ask, eh? The men quite enjoyed your voice last night."

"I shall… think on it."

"Good." Sven squinted at the open sea, inclining his head slightly toward Elsa. "Look, just over the horizon about… ten degrees portside. Is that a sail, or am I suffering the heat?"

The blonde, glad for a distraction, squinted out in the direction her companion was focused. Between the glare on the water and the shifting of the sloop, she was unsure of whether or not the speck of white on the horizon was a hallucination. "Perhaps a glass…"

"Ah, but you see it?" With a nod to the affirmative, Sven turned and called over the deck. "Sail ho!"

A cheer went up amongst the crew, all of who flew into immediate action to ready the ship. Elsa stared at Sven, who simply shrugged and moved past her, toward the helm. "Sometimes a bit of false hope is worth more than a world of truthful disappointment."

* * *

It was two hours into the chase, and Anna was becoming restless. Sven's instinct had been right- they were now in pursuit of a rather small fishing vessel, slowly but surely gaining on the little prize. It wasn't much, but with the haul from the _Urðr_ dwindling by the day, there might be enough aboard to last them until they could find a friendly port.

The anticipation, however maddening, was not the main worry on the redhead's mind though. In fact, at the moment it barely ranked in the top five things she was fretting over- even if the fisherman put up a fight, which was unlikely, there would be no real loss to them other than energy. No, the primary bother for Anna was undoubtedly a certain blonde woman who was currently in the bows, making quite the show of ignoring the only other female aboard.

Conflicting emotions had been tearing at Anna's insides since the night before, so badly that she was unable to eat. On the one hand, she was infuriated and disgusted with Elric- _whatever his true name was _- for leading her into some kind of twisted, vile act that most certainly should not and could not happen between two women. As she had stormed past the crew the night previous, Anna had been hell-bent on ending the blonde, on telling Kristoff what had happened and leaving him to deal with it while she pretended not to care. And yet here she was, watching Elric out of the corner of her eye with much more interest than was strictly warranted.

If she were in the habit of being honest with herself, she might have admitted that the kiss last night had only become more enjoyable upon the realization that she was sharing it with another woman. If she were being fair to all parties involved, she'd have told Kristoff of her transgression and have made sure that Elric was alright. Really, if she were being fair to Elric, she would have stayed and discussed what had happened instead of running off like a child throwing a temper fit.

Her heart clenched a little as she remembered the harsh words she'd hissed at the blonde the night before. As scared and confused as she was, there was simply no excuse for what she'd said. In her mind, the cold voice of her stepmother seeped through. _Bastard, tart, ungrateful… monster_. The last word resonated loudly in her own voice, making her cringe visibly.

_How must it feel, to be called something so horrible?_ Her eyes drifted to Elric's back, watching as she moved in a fluid motion, helping to haul a line that had loosened a bit too much. The woman's soldier mask was on once again, unwavering in its stillness and serenity. She was reminded briefly of the pond that had rested in the castle grounds. As a child, she'd loved to play with the family of ducks that inhabited it- but Rapunzel had been the one to point out the mirror-like quality of the water.

_"It's always so calm. But it only takes a single pebble to disturb the surface, and show how deep it is. Beautiful, isn't it Anna? Like it's alive."_

Elric was the personification of that pond, Anna realized as she gazed at him. The night before, she'd thrown a pebble, got the water moving. But what would it take to crack the woman's visage, to make her reveal her secrets? Would it even be possible after the night before?

The fishing boat turned about, hoisting a white flag as a means of surrender. The victory might have been sweet if she weren't so wracked with guilt over what she'd done- and if Kristoff didn't look so relieved at having avoided a fight. "Come on, Anna!" the man chortled, waving a bottle of rum in her direction. She smiled vaguely as she ripped her eyes away from Elric, letting them fall upon her captain as the rest of the crew boarded the little fishing vessel with shouts of victory.

Up in the bows, Elsa's heart broke a little as Kristoff and Anna shared a smile and a drink of rum.


End file.
